“Blow” (2001)
We suppose Ted Demme’s cocaine drama is perhaps the most-seen film on this list, but it, too, only did average business at the box-office, so that’s debatable. Detailing the story of real-life American cocaine smuggler George Jung, whose ‘70s drug empire was so big he made connections with Pablo Escobar, perhaps the appeal for Depp was family. Jung’s tale is a classic rags-to-riches, then fall from grace fable, and the underbelly of it all is about the character’s need for redemption with his parents, including his unloving mother and his own family, especially his daughter. But while this texture is there, “Blow” is essentially more interested in being rock ‘n’ roll. Its screenplay template is basically modeled on “Goodfellas” and as such it suffers greatly by trying to manufacture a fake and phony cool. The movie employs all kinds of garish style with the music—The Rolling Stones, Dylan, Faces, Cream, Lynyrd Skynyrd—cranked up to 11 to not-so-lightly suggest to the audience: [over loud music so you can barely hear] “This lifestyle is so crazy, are we the kings of cocaine! What? What was that?!?” Though Depp does get to wear his hair long and blond, sport comically pimp sunglasses he might actually wear in real life, smoke cigarettes and dress in cool ‘70s outfits, so there is that. But there also isn’t a lot for Depp to do aside from wear various silly wigs of varying lengths over the years, play badass with a gun for a few moments and of course try and come to Jesus in a few moments with his father (Ray Liotta) and his daughter (a very young Emma Roberts). Co-starring Penélope Cruz, Franka Potente, Rachel Griffiths and Paul Reubens, “Blow” sounds good on paper, but it’s so desperate to be Scorsese-esque or the “Boogie Nights” of cocaine dealing, it never finds much of a compelling identity. It might have a sprawling ambition that spans a few decades, but it quickly buckles under the weight of pretty unimaginative direction and a rote script; we’ve seen it all before. Critics were mixed on the film, but arguably even so, too kind. “Blow” couldn’t make back its $53 million budget domestically and was another write-off for New Line. [C-]
“The Libertine” (2004)
Slightly more financially successful than its art-house predecessor “The Man Who Cried,” Laurence Dunmore‘s 2004 British drama “The Libertine” is the last arthouse movie Johnny Depp deigned to star in so far (“The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus” only partly counts since he was called in after the fact as a favor, in a supporting part). Though surely The Weinstein Company had bigger designs for the movie than a paltry $4 million dollars given that it was released in their first year of operations. While it feels like a Infinitum Nihil pet project (Depp’s production company), it’s actually a Mr. Mudd labor of love (John Malkovich’s shingle; he co-stars). Given his own tendency for hedonism and vaguely authentic British accents, it’s no wonder Depp agreed to star as the rakish 17th century poet John Wilmot, the Earl of Rochester, who famously drank and debauched his way to an early grave, only to earn critical acclaim for his life’s work posthumously. Featuring a long wig, the trademark Depp English accent and 17th century period clothing, Depp’s rendering of the Earl is typically flamboyant, but not as swishy and tipsy as say, Jack Sparrow. Co-starring Samantha Morton as the actress he helps blossom and then falls in love with, Rosamund Pike as his wife, Malkovich as King Charles II and a supporting cast that includes Tom Hollander, Rupert Friend and Kelly Reilly, there’s a lot of talent involved in this, but a shortage of inspiring moments. Perhaps it’s the drab photography; though DOP Alexander Melman’s visuals appear to be shot on not-ready-for-prime-time digital cameras, but the film was actually shot on 35mm much to the detriment of his career and promo reel. But at least there’s Michael Nyman‘s score, which might just be the most interesting creative element of the film, and Depp, who puts in a serviceably zealous turn as the depraved and contemptuous libertine. In the end it’s simply a murky and muddled picture, both visually and narratively. [C]
“Secret Window” (2004)
Directed by famous screenwriter David Koepp, one of the most successful writers of all time when it comes to box office receipts (“Jurassic Park,” “Mission: Impossible,” and “Spider-Man”), the implausible “Secret Window” is so ridiculous that it’s a wonder the man behind it writes for a living. Late-era De Palma-esque in its ridiculous plotting, minus any of the visual panache or ironic tongue-and-cheek notes, “Secret Window” was evidently an old Koepp script that was greenlit after the fact in the twist-happy post-M. Night Shyamalan era. And it shows, as the movie is equally as risible as any of the “The Sixth Sense” filmmaker’s less successful works. Based on a Stephen King novella, “Secret Window” reads like a cheap, afterschool special version of a thriller; something that you might peruse at the grocery store while waiting to pay for your perishables. It’s a thriller, but an exceptionally silly one and again, what the appeal was for Depp isn’t clear. Depp plays Mort Rainey, a novelist recovering from a breakdown after he catches his wife (Maria Bello) cheating on him with another man (Timothy Hutton). Nearing the end of his divorce proceedings, he retreats to a cabin in Upstate New York to finish his latest novel. Suffering from writer’s block and depressed, his life is turned sideways when he is suddenly accused of plagiarism by a strange Mississippi dairy farmer (John Turturro), who then starts pursuing him for “justice.” The man claims a story he wrote in 1997 was stolen by Rainey, but the author—who had a plagiarism incident once before—notes that his story was originally published in a 1995 magazine. Unconvinced, the stranger demands to see proof and keeps tormenting the man. When his dog is killed, Rainey hires an old a private investigator friend (Charles S. Dutton again) to help him out. We won’t spoil it here, but as “Secret Window” escalates it only gets more absurd and not in a good way; its concluding twist is essentially equivalent to “it was all a dream.” Perhaps the stupidest movie Johnny Depp has ever been in, audiences were rather cool on the Sony thriller too and it only grossed $48 million domestically off a $40 million budget. For Depp’s part, he plays Rainey as disheveled and confused; his hair always a variation on “extreme bedhead.” (There’s likely something in his various contracts that says the actor is allowed to keep whatever hairstyle he has at the time, wear his own glasses and of course, always smoke his own clove cigarettes.) Critics didn’t take to “Secret Window” either, but it’s something of an injustice that it wasn’t up for multiple Razzies and Worst Movie Of The Year lists. Though we suppose that Philip Glass score is kinda nice. But either way, Koepp and Depp seemed to have got on famously, and are preparing to reteam for crime comedy “Mortdecai” which could shoot as early as this fall. Let’s hope the results are a bit more inspired. [D-]